Page 48 of Not in a Million Years

He looked at me curiously. ‘You’ve got dark hair. Why is it you don’t tan?’

I felt myself flushing. ‘Just don’t. Celtic genes or something. My default is milk bottle, and the most I can ever hope for is weak tea.’

We left the room and walked downstairs, past the glittering swimming pool and onto the path leading to the beach. It was hot, but as we approached the shoreline I could feel a cool breeze coming off the water, threatening to flip my wide-brimmed hat off my head and carry it away. I clutched the brim determinedly. We collected fluffy, sand-coloured towels and made our way to a pair of sunloungers beneath a parasol.

‘So what do we do now?’ I asked.

‘Duh. We lie on the beach.’

‘But…’ I stopped, determined not to quarrel and spoil the new-found good vibes between us. I spread out my towel, peeled off my shirt, adjusted the backrest of my sunlounger and lay down. Next to me, Daniel was doing the same.

The waves were lapping against the front feet of my sunbed. The breeze was blowing gently, cooling my skin. Between my outstretched feet, I could see an expanse of blue water stretching away to the horizon where it met the deeper blue sky. A few people were in the water, paddling or swimming. Two children were earnestly working on a sandcastle with plastic buckets and spades. A yacht edged slowly through the water; other boats were anchored and still.

There was nothing whatsoever to do.

At first, I felt edgy and restless. I checked my phone, but I had no new emails and Claude had replied only vaguely to my message about dinner. I opened my book, but the first page failed to engage my attention. I sipped some water. I applied sunblock to the tops of my feet. I checked my phone again.

‘What’s wrong, Kate? You’re acting like you’re lying on a bed of nails or something.’

‘I’m not great at relaxing.’

‘Really? Wow, I would never have guessed.’

‘Don’t take the piss.’

He grinned. ‘Sorry. But seriously, give it a try – you’ll like it. Want a cocktail? I can’t, because I’m driving later, but there’s nothing stopping you.’

I assessed the status of my hangover. Breakfast had definitely helped, and I sensed that a small amount of alcohol, judiciously applied, might just complete my recovery.

‘Go on then.’

‘What kind?’

‘You know.’ I gestured with my hand, sketching a tall glass and something sticking out of it. ‘A beach cocktail. Surprise me.’

Daniel sprang to his feet and jogged the short distance to the bar. A few minutes later, he returned with a pink drink filled with ice, a paper umbrella sticking out of its top and a strawberry balanced on its rim.

‘What’s this?’ I asked.

‘No idea, but it looks the part.’

‘It certainly does.’ I thanked him and took a sip. ‘Oh my God. That’s the right stuff.’

‘Glad I could help. Now, we relax for a bit and then we’ll go for a swim.’

‘But won’t the water be too—’

‘Kate. Behave.’

‘Sorry.’ I looked sideways at him and a smile flashed between us, our earlier giggles threatening to return. ‘Right. Relaxing in three, two, one…’

I sipped my drink and stretched my toes in the sun. I closed my eyes and watched the splashes of colour the sun left on my eyelids, like a stained-glass window. I listened to the rhythm of the waves and the whisper of the breeze. When my cocktail was finished, I laid my sunbed flat and shut my eyes again, imagining all the tension draining out of my body, through my towel and down into the sand.

I was woken – or jerked back to consciousness at any rate; I wasn’t sure if I’d fallen asleep or just sunk into such deep relaxation that it was almost indistinguishable from sleep – by Daniel’s voice.

‘Hey, Kate. How’s doing nothing coming along?’

I sat up, taking my hat off my face and putting it back on my head. Every bit of me was relaxed – almost limp. I felt more soothed than I had in years – maybe ever. ‘Surprisingly well, actually.’

---